Quincy and Drew Story 1 (Part 1)

With the walk to her car over sooner than he would’ve liked, Drew knew the sensible thing to do would be to say goodbye. But he didn’t want to … not this time.

Quincy had been a part of his life for years, albeit on the other side of the country. Phone calls, texts, and social media were his only contact with her. Yet she pushed him, made him laugh all the time … and made him ache … in more ways than one.

The ache happened when she’d call him upset and all he could think about was holding her in his arms and telling her it’d be all right. Instead, he could just listen to her pain.

Then there was the physical ache … Drew couldn’t even count the times he’d hung up his phone after a lengthy conversation with Quincy and his goddamn dick’d be tenting his pants.

And right now, he ached. He didn’t want a repeat of five years ago when he stupidly parted ways from her with an awkward hug and the confused look that had transformed her sweet face. When she’d gotten to her car, Quincy had looked back at him and he freaking waved at her. Seriously, what the actual fuck had he been thinking?

Her head lightly butting into his arm pulled him from their woefully uneventful past, and his eyes to her upturned lips and smiling eyes. “Drew … what’s on your mind?” she asked.

“The past,” he answered honestly.

Moving from his side to in front of him, she looked up, a challenge stood in her bright eyes. She knew what he was thinking. “What exactly?”

Taking a step forward, his height cast a shadow upon her from the parking lot lamp behind him, darkening her features. “I should’ve done this the last time we met …” he paused, letting the anticipation build up. Over the years, he’d learned that his sassy, Queen Bee was quite impatient, and he liked to play on that.

After a few, long, quiet moments, Quincy, of course, broke the silence. “What should you have done?” she asked, then swiped her tongue over the lips he so wanted to taste.

“That night …” he started, slowly moving closer to his destination, “instead of saying goodbye to you like a fool, I should’ve taken you back to your hotel and fucked you for an hour or so,” he continued, so close to her he could feel her shaky exhale of breath against his neck.

Her eyes fell from his and landed upon his lips. “Just an hour?”

Drew brought his head to her ear, curbing the urge to nibble on the lobe. Instead, he spoke. “The first time.” Because in his many re-livings of that night, he made love to her all night long.

“Oh,” she said simply. When she made eye contact with him again, his mouth slowly curved into a victorious smile.

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, knowing he’d be teasing her with his next words. “Should’ve, would’ve, could—”

The impatient crash of her lips finally against his shut him up, her kiss surging through his veins. Her hands grasped his face and he pulled her body firmly against his.

Fuck, yes. This is what should have been done all those years ago … and then some.

He needed to be closer. With his fingers digging into her hips, he backed her up into the side of his SUV, working his body against hers, his tented pants nestled against her stomach.

Her tortured groan broke the kiss and his lips left hers and traveled along her cheekbone to nibble at her earlobe while his hand seared a path under her shirt and up her abdomen to her breast, finding the nipple marble hard.

As he kneaded the soft globe and his free hand pushing up her shirt, cold water droplets began to pelt his head and shoulders, the temperature difference between him and them sending shivers through his body.

“Mother nature is telling us to cool it down,” she said, between each word, she planted kisses on his face, ending on his lips.

He chuckled as he attempted to cover her with his own body from the unexpected shower. “Yeah, I guess it is. So, Quin, your place or mine?”

“How about the car?” she replied, her fingers wrapping around his jean-covered hard-on.

He groaned as he searched for his keys. Gotta love her impatience.